


Ain't Always Broken (But Here's to Hoping)

by eyesofshinigami



Series: The Birthday Collective [7]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Bottom Lambert (The Witcher), Double Penetration, It's just fluffy smut y'all, Kaer Morhen's Fanon Hot Springs (The Witcher), M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Top Eskel (The Witcher), Top Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:09:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27645284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyesofshinigami/pseuds/eyesofshinigami
Summary: Lambert's had a rough year, but he can always trust his brothers to take care of him when he reaches their winter den in Kaer MorhenOr the one where Eskel and Geralt spoil Lambert, like he deserves
Relationships: Eskel/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Lambert
Series: The Birthday Collective [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1910632
Comments: 18
Kudos: 128





	Ain't Always Broken (But Here's to Hoping)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [round_robin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/round_robin/gifts).



> A very, very happy birthday to the wonderful Round_robin, who requested that I write her Gerkelbert (I blame BiKM for the ship name) with double penetration, with a side order of Lambert getting spoiled. I hope this is what you wanted, and it was an absolute delight to write it for you, lovely!
> 
> Title taken from the song "Feelin' Whitney" by Post Malone.

The Path has not been kind to Lambert this year. Too many shit contracts, not enough coin, and he’s pretty sure the elbow he broke over the summer didn’t set quite right. It aches when it rains and he curses every time it twinges. He contemplates just staying the fuck in Kaedwen just so he doesn’t have to trudge up the fucking mountain to Kaer Morhen, but he can’t deny the pull in his chest, the need to head back to the Wolves’ winter den. 

So, he sets off when he can scent the chill of winter on the wind, wanting to beat the snows before they make the path impassable. As fucked as he feels, Lambert’s not keen on dying of hypothermia this winter. It’s a trudge, but he makes it in decent enough time, just before the first fat flakes of snow start to fall around him. He’ll bitch to anyone who listens about how much he hates it, but he can admit to himself that seeing the keep looming in the distance settles something in him like nothing else can. The prospect of Vesemir’s good food and the call of the hot springs is what keeps his feet moving, one step in front of the other until he’s at the wooden gates of the only place he’s ever been willing to call home. 

Vesemir is standing there like a sentry, hands on his hips as he looks Lambert up and down. He knows he looks a mess, too thin and scraggly from a lean season, but he’s home now. His pack will take care of him. “Welcome home, pup,” Vesemir grunts, holding out a hand for Lambert to shake. He does, and finds himself pulled into a bear hug. Any other time he’d kick up a fuss and try to squirm away, but the simple touch feels good, too good. It grounds him and he melts back against the older wolf. “The others are inside.”

Lambert manages a tired grin at that. It’s hit or miss if Geralt and Eskel will make it up every year, so the both of them here is a treat he didn’t expect. He can already feel the tension coiled in his body easing just a bit. He follows Vesemir inside, and already he can smell the familiar scent of stone and fire and _home._ He breathes it in and walks up to his room, but he gets stopped on the stairs by a very familiar bulk standing in his way. 

“Welcome home, little wolf,” Eskel says, dragging Lambert close and nosing at his neck. He’s warm and Lambert’s tension melts even further. All he wants is to spend the rest of the winter held just like this, wrapped up in Eskel’s arms. “Come on, in Geralt’s room. You can stay there with us, it’ll be better.” 

“Yeah,” is all he can think to say. His body is too tired to react to the implication of what staying the winter in Geralt’s bed entails, but he’s grateful for it all the same. He feels sluggish, his feet dragging by the time they make it down the hall and Eskel has to practically carry him across the threshold. 

Geralt’s already there, fussing about with the furs on his massive bed until he looks up and Lambert can see the small smile that quirks on his lips. “Little wolf, good to see you,” he says, his voice husky and smooth in the way that Lambert loves. It ripples up his spine and he scrambles to press himself against Geralt, to take in his scent and the feel of his body against his own. “We’ll take care of you, we promise.” 

“Tomorrow, though. Tonight you need to rest. I can smell it on you,” Eskel murmurs, already helping Geralt to strip Lambert out of his armor. They set it aside with care and Lambert feels overwhelmed with everything, with them and how delicately they treat him. Part of him wants to grab it and hoard it, carry it tight inside his chest before it gets taken away. But right now, he’s too tired to snap his teeth and act out, instead he just drinks in the comfort as he crawls into the bed that smells like both of them. Unashamedly, he burrows deeper into the furs and lets himself drift off. 

\--

Lambert sleeps deeply, and only wakes when light is flooding through the window. He blinks awake and looks around, momentarily confused about why he’s not in his own bed, before he remembers the night before. Heat floods him and he squirms against the furs, tempted to rub himself off against them, drowning in the warm, rich smells of his brothers, but there will be plenty of time for that later. His stomach lets out a growl and he has other morning things to attend to, so he reluctantly crawls out of the bed and dresses in a simple tunic and loose pants to go find something to eat.

Vesemir never expects them to do chores the first day they’re back, giving them a chance to sleep off the trip up the mountain and relax. This year in particular Lambert’s grateful for it, despite the itch in his fingers to find his sword when he catches the sounds of combat coming from the courtyard, coupled with the sound of Vesemir barking out comments on their form. 

There’s a bowl of stew warming on the stove and a mug of ale on the table, and Lambert digs into it without preamble. It’s filling and he slurps it down in record time, grabbing some leftover bread to mop up the last bits from his bowl. It’s felt like a century since he’s had food so good, and he knows there will be more to come. His bones ache a little still, but nothing a dip in the hot springs won’t fix. 

Just in time, as the sounds of swords clanging starts to slow, and soon Eskel and Geralt come trudging back into the kitchen where Lambert’s finishing off his mug. “Slept well?” Geralt asks as they both sidle up next to him, nosing and licking at his jaw. They both smell like sweat and musk and it makes Lambert’s cock twitch in his breeches. 

“Like the fuckin’ dead. So now that I’m not falling down on my feet, I think I was promised some pampering?” Lambert says with a grin. In truth, he’s looking forward to their hands on him, to being pressed between them and letting them love him the way he hasn’t been in so long. He’d cut out his own tongue before he said it out loud, but he _craves_ this, wants it so bad it might choke him. 

They barely give him a chance to finish his ale before they’re practically lifting him from the table and heading down to the hot springs. He lets himself be led, just as eager to get into the hot water and be under their gracious hands. Clothes are stripped and tossed to the side and all of them slide into the water at the same time. 

Lambert takes a moment to appreciate them both, here in the soft light of the springs as they move about and gather the things they need. He catalogues each new scar marring their skin, makes a note to trace them with his tongue before the winter ends. His brothers deserve just as much love and attention as he does, and he’ll make sure he gives it to them.

Geralt swims up to him and holds up a bottle. “Let me wash your hair, little wolf,” he says lowly, and Lambert acquiesces without so much as a complaint. He’s still tired, all the way down to his bones, and he wants it. He dunks himself under the water and soon, Geralt’s strong fingers are working the soap into a rich lather. Geralt’s nails and sword calluses feel amazing against his scalp, all of the grime and residue of the path carefully washed away under his brother’s talented hands. 

He peeks an eye open and Eskel is seated on the bench carved into the stone, watching them with hooded eyes. His cock is thickening, but not fully hard yet, and Lambert can feel his mouth water. Maybe he’ll get lucky and he’ll get his mouth on him before they leave the springs. 

As if reading his mind, Eskel chuckles. “Soon, little wolf. Right now, it’s about you.” 

Lambert rolls his eyes and huffs. Geralt’s fingers feel too good for him to argue, and he’s looking forward to whatever the two of them have planned. “Fine, fine. But you owe me,” he mutters, dunking himself under when Geralt taps his shoulder. When he surfaces, the two of them have switched places and Eskel’s bulk is pressed up against him. 

“My turn, little wolf. Let me wash you,” Eskel murmurs, running his hands down Lambert’s back, touch warm and welcoming. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Always do, Kel,” Lambert says as he melts back into his brother’s touch. 

Eskel’s broad hands against his skin makes Lambert’s entire body sing, every single nerve ending tingling. He’s not sure how much of it is Eskel’s magic and how much of it is just how much he wants the touch, but it makes heat start to pool in the pit of Lambert’s belly, his cock starting to fill and lift between his legs. He lets out soft little moans of pleasure when Eskel digs his thumbs into the rigid muscles of his back, sucking in breaths when a knot gives under the insistent pressure. He can feel the last bit of the tension he’d been carrying with him the whole year start to melt away, unspooling underneath the careful touches and Eskel’s hands.

He smells Geralt before he sees him, and the white wolf is tipping his head back to kiss and bite along his neck. Pressed between them like this, Lambert feels loved and held, and he lets out a shuddery breath before Geralt kisses him. It’s hot and sweet, deep and satisfying as Eskel continues to lather up his skin with his hands. “Look so good like this, little wolf. Between us, right where you belong.” The words make Lambert gasp into the kiss he’s sharing with Geralt, before he gets pulled back in again.

All three of them are hard now, Eskel’s cock pushed up against the cleft of his ass, and Geralt’s a thick weight against his own. Even though he can feel them both against him, there’s no rush, both of them touching and kissing and licking at him like they have all the time in the world. 

He feels so cherished, it’s almost overwhelming. Lambert forgets sometimes, how heady the weight of having both of them is. He fucking loves it, and he lets out a breathy, “Fucking hell,” when two thick fingers start pushing at his hole. He doesn’t even care that he’s not sure who they belong to, but his head falls back against Eskel’s shoulder as they start to scissor, opening him up. The burn is perfect and sends heat skittering up his spine.

“Going to love you so good, little wolf” Geralt purrs, snaking a hand between them to wrap around Lambert’s cock. The water is slick, but not enough, and the friction makes Lambert squirm in the best way. He gasps, arching his hips into the feeling of Geralt’s thumb swiping across the head of his cock on each stroke. 

“Could do this in a fucking bed,” Lambert gripes, but there’s no real heat behind it. Surrounded by the warm water and the humid air of the spring, everything feels soft and languid, like his muscles are made of water and the only thing keeping him together are the two strong, solid bodies he’s pressed against. It’s perfect. “Or are you two both just too damn impatient to get at my ass?” 

Eskel nuzzles behind his ear and bites down on the curve of his shoulder, just a nip that makes Lambert moan. “Why move? I like you here, and so does Geralt. Now, quit your complaining and let us fuck you properly.” Two fingers has turned into three and Lambert’s rocking back against them, his head falling forward onto Geralt’s shoulder. “There you go, little wolf. You’re opening up so nice for me, always so good for us.” 

“Please,” Lambert whines, dropping the act. They all know he’s desperate for it, both of them can scent it on the air as he fucks back against the thick fingers filling him. He wants more, wants Eskel’s thick cock spearing him open and reaching right up to the heart of him. “Want you, want you both.” 

“That was always the plan,” Geralt says as he tugs at one of Lambert’s nipples until it peaks beneath his fingers. “Go on, Eskel. I think he’s ready for you.” 

The fingers slide out and Lambert can feel the thick, full head of Eskel’s cock push up against his rim, a delicious pressure until it pops inside. He lets out a low, loud moan that echoes off the walls and ratchets the heat in his belly up a notch. Geralt holds his hips still as Eskel rocks into him, filling him up inch by delicious inch so slowly that Lambert grits his teeth together. It burns, just the right side of pain, and he moans again when Eskel’s fully seated inside of him. The hot, insistent pressure of him is just what he needs to let that last knot of tension he’d been carrying go. 

Warm hands snake up around his torso and grasp his shoulders as Eskel murmurs, “Feels good?” Lambert nods, and Eskel kisses his neck before he starts to pull out, leaving just the head of his cock notched inside of him before he thrusts back. It’s the same slow, easy slide that makes Lambert’s brain melt a little. Eskel keeps fucking him like that, slow and deep, his cock hitting all the right places inside of him to make him moan and whimper.

He watches through slitted eyes as Geralt grabs the tin of slick that Eskel had left on the rim of the pool, the sneaky bastard. It makes him jolt a bit when he feels the tip of Geralt’s finger prodding at his already stretched hole, but he takes a deep breath and relaxes so that it can slip inside. 

“Good little wolf,” Geralt says in that low, deep way of his when he’s pleased. The praise lights up Lambert’s insides and he feels his cock flex against the hard plane of Geralt’s abdomen. “Can’t wait to feel you like this.” Geralt’s other hand wraps around his cock again, short, quick strokes that act as a delicious counterpoint to the way that Eskel’s fucking him. He can feel the orgasm building, and he lets himself topple over as he squeezes tight around Eskel, hard enough to make the other witcher moan against his skin. The wet head of his cock leaves sticky smears all over Geralt’s belly, but the other doesn’t seem bothered by it at all. “Perfect. Relax for me, just like that.” 

Lambert’s body is nice and loose after his orgasm, even though his cock is still hard where it’s tucked up against Geralt’s. It’s been so long since he’s been touched like this that he’s not surprised that one release wasn’t going to be enough, and he’s already chasing the second as another of Geralt’s fingers slides inside of him. The stretch burns even hotter, Lambert wriggling against the feeling even as he fucks down against how full he is. Soon, he’ll have both of them inside of him, sliding against each other as they fuck him until he can’t think anymore. 

He groans when Geralt starts to spread his fingers, opening him up wider as Eskel keeps thrusting, and it’s not long until Geralt is slipping in a third. The stretch should be unbearable, but he’s so relaxed from the pampering in the bath and the delicious orgasm he just had, it feels like Geralt could just slide right in. He squirms at that thought, pulling a noise out of both of them that makes his cock twitch. “Almost there, little wolf, then you’ll be full of both of us,” Eskel purrs, pulling him down for a kiss. His neck is twisted at a funny angle, and he’d complain about it if Eskel’s tongue wasn’t filling up his mouth, kissing him into delirium. 

When he pulls back for a breath, Geralt grabs him and kisses him too, chasing Eskel’s taste with his lips and tongue as he pulls his fingers free. Lambert barely has time to think before Eskel’s arms are shifting and he’s being lifted, spread open in a way that makes his face burn and his cock leak. “Deep breaths, little wolf. Going to push inside now,” is all Geralt says as he takes his cock in hand, rubbing the head against his wet, stretched rim where Eskel’s already buried inside. He pushes in, and at first Lambert’s not even sure he’s going to fit, until he pushes inside and makes both him and Eskel jerk. 

It’s hot, so hot, and Lambert feels like he might burst into flames with the way his nerves are lighting up. He whines and Geralt kisses him quiet, sliding in agonizingly slow. They’re both so goddamn thick and heavy that Lambert feels it all the way in the back of his throat. It’s almost too much, but he can hear both of them panting in his ears, smell the spike of arousal from all three of them as Geralt finally, _finally_ flush against him. 

“Shh, breathe, little wolf. You’re doing so well, have us both tucked up inside of you. I can smell how much you like it, being full of both of us. I would call you greedy, but we like being buried in you too much to tell you no, don’t we, Geralt?” 

Geralt grunts, teeth bared, his fingertips digging into Lambert’s hips hard enough to bruise. “Fuck yes we do. You feel incredible, little wolf. How do you feel?” 

It takes Lambert a minute to answer, the words choking out of him when they pull back and thrust back inside of him in tandem. “S’good. So good,” he slurs, out of his mind with how good it feels to be so fucking _full._ His cock is leaking against Geralt, precome smearing across his skin and filling the air with his sharp, bitter scent. “Fuckin’ thinking about this all year, wanted this so bad.” 

This time, it’s Geralt that kisses him hard, licking into his mouth and biting at his lips before he passes him back to Eskel, who is gentler but no less thorough as they fuck him slow and deep. The stretch of them both so far inside of him is making him dizzy and he can feel heat curling low in his belly, building behind his balls. He wonders briefly if they’ll make him come untouched, as full as he is, and the fact that both of them together are hitting all the best places inside of him. Each thrust pulls a throaty sound out of him, punched-out and desperate as he writhes on the two cocks fucking him stupid. 

“Look at you, such a good little wolf for us. Taking what you’re given and letting us love you like this,” Eskel says, smearing the words across his skin as he licks and sucks on Lambert’s neck. His voice is tight, meaning he’s probably getting close, and suddenly Lambert wants it, wants to feel Eskel come inside of him until he’s dripping with it. As if reading his mind, Eskel chuckles and kisses the line of his jaw. “Oh, don’t worry, you’re going to get what you want. We’re both going to fill you up and keep you good and full of us all winter. I promise.” 

“Fuck, yes, that’s what I want, please, goddamn it,” Lambert swears as he tries to rock his hips, but the tight hold they both have on him keeps him anchored in place. All he can do is take it, let them fuck up into him over and over until he feels like he might die without it. “Please, Kel, Ger, please fuck me.” 

Geralt growls and kisses him again, all tongue and teeth as they both speed up, just enough to have Eskel panting in his ear and Geralt making noises into his mouth. 

Eskel spills first, and Lambert pulls back from Geralt’s mouth with a loud moan when he feels it. His cock flexes inside of him and Eskel fucks deeper, pushing his hot come further inside. It’s slick and hot and because he’s so open from taking both of their cocks, Lambert can feel it sliding out of him and into the water around them. Part of him wants to clench around them both, keep it tucked inside, but it’s impossible with Geralt still thrusting and Eskel still buried inside of him. 

He whines again, Eskel kissing along his jaw as he rolls his hips to a stop. Geralt’s still pounding away, fucking into Lambert harder and faster now that he’s not having to move with Eskel. Eskel’s come slicks the way and Lambert’s eyes roll back in his head when Eskel reaches around to stroke his cock. He’s so hard and his cock is throbbing in Eskel’s grip and he’s so close he can taste it on the back of his tongue. 

“That’s it, little wolf. You’re so close, I can smell it. Geralt is too, he’s going to fill you up nice. Do you think you could come first?” Eskel croons in his ear as he strokes, twisting up around the head of his cock with a flick of his wrist. It makes Lambert writhe and he feels heat rocketing down his spine, settling in his pelvis as the pressure coils low. 

“Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ ,” Lambert shouts as he comes, his cock jerking and his body clenching down on the two cocks inside of him as he comes. Starbursts cloud his vision as his body shakes through his orgasm, pulse after pulse of seed shooting out all over Geralt as the other man fucks hard into him. He comes down, edging into overstimulation but he wants to feel Geralt come so he rolls his hips and throws his head back against Eskel’s shoulder. “Geralt, fuck, come on, want you to fucking come inside me already.”

Geralt groans and bites around his nipple, latching on as he thrusts one, two, three more times before he shoves as deep as he can and starts to come. The hot spill of him makes Lambert jerk in Eskel’s hold, moaning at how fucking full he feels. Geralt pulls off and laps at the teeth marks he left, fucking Lambert through his aftershocks before he slows down. Neither of them pull out, and Lambert is grateful for it.

“Little wolf?” Geralt asks, petting through Lambert’s sweaty hair. Fuck, they’re going to need another bath at this rate. 

He gives Geralt a cheeky thumbs up and grins, too tired to do more than that. His muscles ache and his rim burns in the best way, still stretched around the softening cocks that haven’t slipped from him yet. “I’m fine, stop worrying. Fuck, that was so good, I could sleep for a week.” 

Eskel kisses his cheeks and keeps holding him tight. Neither of them seem like they’re in any hurry to move. “Good. You were so tight when you walked in yesterday.” 

“Certainly not going to be anymore, not after taking both of your monster dicks,” Lambert grouses, but he knows they can smell the warm contentment wafting off his skin. “But seriously, thanks. It’s been…” he trails off, biting his lip. Talking about his shit year on the path wasn’t the best conversation for afterglow.

“We know. You don’t have to explain. We’re going to spend all winter chasing that away, don’t you worry,” Geralt says, sealing his promise with a kiss. Lambert accepts it gratefully and delights in the pleased hum he hears rumbling in Eskel’s chest at the sight of them.

Eventually, they’re going to have to leave. They can’t stay in the hot springs forever, but Lambert’s not ready to break the peace that’s settled over them. His bones feel like they’re made of honey and one of them may have to carry him out of here, but that’s a problem for later. 

For right now, he’s fine just where he is. Pieced back together and pressed between two of his favorite people, the world makes sense again, even just for a little bit.

-END-

**Author's Note:**

> Liked it? Loved it? Please let me know in the comments or come find me over on Discord at #eyesofshinigami0707


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